


Songbird

by MagpieNeedsGlitter



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, I Blame Tumblr, Inspired by Music, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Other, Plot Twists, Some Humor, Some Plot, Threats of Violence, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:37:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieNeedsGlitter/pseuds/MagpieNeedsGlitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this is sort of a book/nbc Hannibal mashup. It's only a little fic, so i guess context isn't vital. It's the first fic that i've ever put out to a wider audience than my sister and best friend, so any comments would be so welcome. I'd guess it's a fairly pg fic, there's a tiny bit of violence, no gore, and no sex. I was aiming for dark comedy. I got the idea for it after watching raul esparza sing Hallelujah on youtube, and wondering how nbc could possibly incorporate his singing into the show, and this is what i came up with. I'm also trying to work out how to give Hannibal a mads mikkelsen type background as a dancer, so maybe i'll try and link that up as a series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Songbird

Hannibal had him cornered; Chilton’s nightmare was finally a reality. Hannibal’s fierce snarl held nothing recognisable as human, it was impossible to connect this savage creature with refined, cultured gentleman Chilton had once known.

As Hannibal moves into striking range, brandishing his carving knife, Chilton is thinking as fast as he can... What could stop Hannibal from killing him? He'll never fight him off; he has no talent for violence, no defensive abilities, no weapon. Odd images come to mind as he waits to die. His childhood pet, his parents’ reaction to his college acceptance and the amateur musical theatre group he attended. He shakes visibly as he racks his brain, trying to see a way out.

Observing Chilton dispassionately, Hannibal considers that perhaps he's played with his food too much. Chilton’s fear will surely affect his taste … Hannibal’s avaricious soul always craves the best of everything, so for the quality of his ingredients it’s clear he must calm the man before he kills him. He lowers his weapon, and in a surprisingly gentle voice, he says “Death comes for us all Chilton, it is nothing to fear. There is beauty in it, as in everything. The dead feel no fear, no pain.”

“Beauty…” Chilton gasps. Hannibal craves beauty! Chilton was often the male lead in his musical theatre group; an agent talent spotted him once, told him that his voice would make him a Broadway star. If only he’d followed his dream and tried, he wouldn't even be here now! But no, mustn't get distracted. He only has this one chance. In a last ditch attempt to save his life Chilton bursts into song!

He’s rough from lack of practice and nerves, but, God! It’s made Hannibal hesitate. Chilton closes his eyes and concentrates on the song; he automatically selects Hallelujah, the Rufus Wainwright version. Though he starts timidly, his voice shaking, he improves by the bar. His voice reflects his desperation, hope, his will to live. After the first verse, he is almost up to his old standard, so he belts out the chorus.

Hannibal is both astonished and dismayed. His grip on the knife loosens, the arm holding it drops until it’s pointed at the floor. Hannibal has always been able to see through people, but he never suspected that this man - whom he had dismissed as a talentless gatekeeper, a petty despotic fool with delusions that his job made him the sovereign ruler of a kingdom of psychopaths – that this man could have such a talent. How could he have missed such a gift? 

When Chilton finishes, the silence seems profound. He doesn't dare open his eyes for fear he'll be gutted. Hannibal’s shocked gaze grows calculating. “Do you perhaps know anything in a more classical vein?” he enquires solicitously. The question carries the slightest hint of threat, so Chilton nods frantically.

Choking back his panic and his relief at this short reprieve, he starts to sing ‘O Mio Babbino Caro’. He is perhaps half way through, when Hannibal leaps towards him, an instant change from graceful repose to violent motion. The knife thunks home in the floor where it’s been thrown. In seconds Frederick is wrapped in Hannibal’s arms, as he applies a perfect chokehold.

Hannibal is careful to exert no unnecessary pressure; he doesn't want to risk damaging Frederick’s throat, his voice. He considers his options carefully as he sets about restraining the unconscious man. Death was not the only vengeance. It could even be argued that he who must always kill his enemies is lacking in sophistication. Hannibal knows he is like a Dragon with a treasure hoard, keeping himself surrounded with the most beautiful things he’s able to possess. This would be no different. Steeling himself, he made his decision, he’d been given an opportunity, shown a treasure by the fates, and he would honour that. The world is full of rude people; he would not go hungry without Frederick’s contribution to his dinner table.

Hannibal would keep Frederick. He would have a songbird.


End file.
